


I've Waited Oh So Long

by lesdemonium (winnerstick)



Series: Modern 'Verse [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Baby Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Blood, Blue Balls, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Good Parent Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Good Parent Jaskier | Dandelion, Good Parent Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, M/M, Marking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Sickfic, Smut, ciri gets sick but it's not a big deal, like so much lmao, not as a kink someone just gets a bloody nose, or a semi attempt anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:16:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24218731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winnerstick/pseuds/lesdemonium
Summary: After a month, though, they still hadn’t gone beyond kissing. It wasn’t a conscious thing, Geralt didn’t think. He knew on some level, Jaskier was pushing the brakes whenever things got too hot and heavy, but Geralt hadn’t pursued sexual intimacy as tenaciously as he might have otherwise. More than anything, Geralt needed Jaskier to know Geralt was serious. He needed Jaskier to know that he was more than a distraction. Jaskier seemed just as intent on testing the legitimacy of that statement, and so they had waited.Geralt was done waiting. He wanted his hands on Jaskier. He wanted to map every inch of Jaskier’s skin with his tongue. He wanted to drive sounds from Jaskier that would make Geralt flush when he thought of them later. He wanted to see what Jaskier looked like when he came. At this point, it was more of a need than a want.Geralt and Jaskier try very, very hard to have sex. The universe has other ideas.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Modern 'Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747069
Comments: 51
Kudos: 610





	I've Waited Oh So Long

**Author's Note:**

> ok if smut isn't your jam, this isn't plot heavy so you'd totally be able to skip this and read any further additions to this ~verse. I think you _could_ read this as a stand-alone, but it'll make a lot more sense as to where the characters are in relation to each other if you read the first part of this series. This technically takes place just before the first fic ends, timeline-wise, but extends past it by a couple weeks. Or in your mind it could pick up where the last fic ended. Truly doesn't make much of a difference, it's a choose your own adventure kind of thing.
> 
> this fic was affectionately titled blue balls: the gift that keeps on giving.
> 
> also, thank you all SO MUCH for all the kind comments i received on the first part, all the kudos, all the bookmarks, all the reblogs, etc. i've been riding such a high since i posted the first part last week. you're all amazing <3

Geralt’s heart was beating in his throat.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt this keyed up. His skin felt hot and he was wearing entirely too many clothes; he could feel Jaskier’s fingers burning their way along his arms through the fabric. They had been kissing so long the room had grown dark around them, but Geralt didn’t need the light. All he had to do was feel Jaskier. 

Jaskier was panting, and still he kissed Geralt, heedless of the way their lips joining together made his breath more effortful. Geralt’s hands had finally found their way under Jaskier’s shirt and he rucked it up to Jaskier’s underarms. They were going slow, so slow it was almost painful, but it just built the anticipation. The heat Geralt felt came straight from inside him, a burning fire trying to get out, to devour Jaskier.

“Fuck, Geralt,” Jaskier said, so breathy it was practically a whisper. Geralt was already impossibly hard, but his cock twitched in interest at Jaskier’s voice; kissing Geralt had left Jaskier so breathless he could barely talk. That was a pretty large compliment, from a musician.

Geralt dragged himself away from Jaskier’s lips. He loved the kiss-bruised look of them, but the rest of Jaskier’s body called to him. Geralt helped Jaskier lean back until his back was flush with the mattress as he kissed a trail down Jaskier’s jaw, his neck, his collarbone. He tugged the shirt up and over, humming with satisfaction as finally his trail was unobstructed. Kissing aimlessly and sucking marks and bites into Jaskier’s skin made Geralt feel a bit like a teenager, but judging by Jaskier’s soft sighs and moans, there were no complaints to Geralt’s marking. He tried not to find too much satisfaction in this--no one would see the marks, but Geralt would know they were there, marring Jaskier’s gorgeous skin.

“You’re thorough,” Jaskier teased. He had caught his breath, much to Geralt’s dismay. He supposed Jaskier had found time to breathe without his mouth otherwise occupied, though.

Jaskier’s fingers threaded through Geralt’s hair, holding him close. Geralt peered up at Jaskier only to catch Jaskier’s eyes staring back at him. Jaskier’s mouth hung open in a smile, like he was incredulous this was happening, and Geralt smirked back at him before nipping at Jaskier’s hip bone.

“Is that a complaint?” he asked. 

Geralt sat up on his knees, nestled between Jaskier’s legs, and ran his hands up Jaskier’s calves, putting light pressure to guide Jaskier up. He took Geralt’s nudging, and Jaskier’s legs bent at the knee, resting against Geralt’s ribs. Geralt rolled his eyes fondly as Jaskier hooked the heels of his feet into Geralt’s ass. The grin Jaskier gave him was both beautiful, and troublesome. Geralt suddenly had a few more ideas of what he wanted to do to Jaskier.

“Absolutely not,” Jaskier answered. He rested a hand on Geralt’s chest and slowly let it trail down until he landed on Geralt’s abdomen. “I am in no position to complain about  _ anything _ you want to do with that mouth of yours. I’ve wanted it for so long.”

As if he had been waiting for that answer, Geralt leaned back into Jaskier. He guided Jaskier’s legs to wrap around his waist, and once they were firmly around him, Geralt’s forearms found the mattress on either side of Jaskier’s chest. Their hips rolled together and Jaskier gasped, mouth lax and neck stretched, as their lengths brushed. Geralt’s nose found the juncture between Jaskier’s neck and collarbone, and for a moment he hovered there, taking in Jaskier’s scent, feeling his own hot breath, feeling Jaskier grow restless beneath him.

“Geralt, you  _ know _ I love attention, but if you draw this out for too much longer I am going to descend into insanity. That will be your doing. People will ask, ‘Whatever happened to Jaskier?’ and they will answer ‘His boyfriend drove him mad by absolutely refusing to fuck him’ and we will all lament a rather sad-- _ oh. _ ”

Jaskier talked far too much. Needing a bit of silence, Geralt bit into Jaskier’s collarbone

He couldn’t exactly blame Jaskier, though. Dramatics aside, it really had taken them  _ far _ too long to get to this point. Their relationship, new as it was, had been stepped into as if nothing had changed, aside from Geralt suddenly having permission to touch Jaskier, to kiss him whenever he wanted.

And kiss him he had. Now that he was allowed to, he was greedy with it. Everything from soft forehead kisses as Jaskier fed Ciri, to swallowing any teasing Jaskier attempted at Posadas. He kissed Jaskier when Jaskier left for work, when he returned home, before he got on stage. Geralt kissed him with Jaskier still blinking sleep out of his eyes, and when Jaskier was caught up in some dramatic monologue or another. Every time, Jaskier melted into it. It didn’t matter if it was the first or the hundredth kiss of the day, Jaskier puddled around him.

After a month, though, they still hadn’t gone beyond kissing. It wasn’t a conscious thing, Geralt didn’t think. He knew on some level, Jaskier was pushing the brakes whenever things got too hot and heavy, but Geralt hadn’t pursued sexual intimacy as tenaciously as he might have otherwise. More than anything, Geralt needed Jaskier to know Geralt was serious. He needed Jaskier to know that he was more than a distraction. Jaskier seemed just as intent on testing the legitimacy of that statement, and so they had waited.

Geralt was done waiting. He wanted his hands on Jaskier. He wanted to map every inch of Jaskier’s skin with his tongue. He wanted to drive sounds from Jaskier that would make Geralt flush when he thought of them later. He wanted to see what Jaskier looked like when he came. At this point, it was more of a need than a want.

Jaskier was right: they needed to pick up the pace. Geralt continued biting a mark into Jaskier’s collarbone as his fingers popped open the button of Jaskier’s pants. He slipped a hand inside, which served the purpose of unzipping them  _ and _ letting Geralt get his hand on Jaskier’s cock, and Jaskier  _ hissed _ his enthusiasm. Jaskier’s hips bucked up into Geralt’s palm, searching for more pressure, and Geralt grinned into Jaskier’s neck.

Geralt removed his hand--chuckling at the whine Jaskier let out--and dug his fingers under the hem of the back of Jaskier’s pants. He tugged them down harshly, just barely exposing the cleft of his ass, before Jaskier helped him. Jaskier’s movements were just as enthusiastic and purposeful and together they got the pants around his thighs. The way his legs were spread didn’t allow for any further removal, but this was all Geralt needed, for now.

Maybe it was just how needy Geralt felt right now, but Jaskier’s cock looked  _ pretty _ . All Geralt wanted to do was get his hand, his mouth, his ass around it, and it was hard to decide where he wanted to go first. He figured starting slow as probably best, and he was just about to wrap his hand around the base when--

He heard a cry from the baby monitor.

Jaskier and Geralt froze, their eyes widening a bit in disbelief as they stared at each other, then slowly, regretfully, turned their attentions toward the video display. Ciri didn’t usually wake up in the night. If she did, she let out little more than a whimper, then rolled over and went back to sleep. Now, however, Ciri seemed to be struggling. Her cries were only increasing in intensity, and the sound was so sorrowful that Geralt felt his heart clench.

“Fuck,” Jaskier breathed. Geralt met his eyes again, and Geralt was sure his own face mirrored Jaskier’s disappointment. “Maybe she’ll put herself back to sleep?”

They both knew that wasn’t going to happen. This wasn’t a typical wake-up. Geralt and Jaskier disentangled themselves from each other--it seemed wrong to continue their activities, and Geralt was pretty sure a crying baby in the background would ruin any sort of mood. Geralt sat back on his knees; Jaskier removed his legs from around Geralt and tugged his pants back on.

They waited five minutes, and by that point, Ciri had descended into full-blown wails.

“I’m going to go check on her,” Geralt finally said. He pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s forehead and stood up from the bed. Jaskier nodded, trailed his fingers from Geralt’s shoulder all the way down to his fingertips, then let him go.

Nothing happened that night. Ciri had woken up with a fever and it took Geralt a good hour to get her calmed down and back to sleep. Jaskier came in to help after thirty minutes of trying, and together they were able to settle her with some medicine and restarting the bedtime routine.

\--

“Geralt, she is going to be just as safe with me as she was with you,” Yennefer insisted. 

Her voice, her posture, everything about her was tense, as if she was holding back anger. Which was interesting, because for the last couple years they had done very little to hold back their anger from each other. Maybe they were finally figuring out a way to communicate with each other. But Yennefer’s arms were crossed tightly over her chest and her eyes shone with restrained fury, and it was enough to make Geralt step back from Ciri.

The pediatrician told them it was Roseola. Ultimately harmless and would go away on its own, but Geralt had never dealt with a feverish baby before. Jaskier still had to work, and Ciri couldn’t go to daycare with the illness, so Geralt had spent the past two days and nights with her. They both suffered with Ciri’s difficulty sleeping due to congestion, her on-and-off crying all day because she was just so uncomfortable, and obsessing over the exact right dosage of medicine and how frequently she could have it. As far as illnesses went, it really wasn’t that terrible. But his baby was  _ hurting _ and there was only so much he could do. Jaskier tried to take a bit of the burden off Geralt’s hands, but Geralt had hardly allowed that, causing Jaskier to roll his eyes and call Geralt a control freak. He wasn’t wrong.

Now it was Yennefer’s turn for custody, and Geralt couldn’t help the guilt, nagging at him that he was just pawning off his sick baby onto someone else. Nevermind that the person he was “pawning” her off on was her  _ mother _ . He didn’t blame Yennefer for being a little (or a lot, judging by the way she was trying to nudge him out the door) insulted. He would be insulted, too, if the tables were turned.

“I’m sorry, Yen. It’s not you, of course. It’s just…” he trailed off, and he wasn’t entirely sure where he  _ was _ going with this.

Her eyes softened just a bit, so apparently he was somewhat forgiven. “I know. She’s just sick. But she will be okay, and I’ll give you indulgent updates. Ciri will be  _ fine _ . And, honestly, she could probably use some time with an adult who has slept through the night the past two days, which is very clearly not you.” Yennefer raised a hand to thumb at the bags under Geralt’s eyes. Yeah, he could probably use some sleep.

Geralt sighed and bent down to press one more kiss against Ciri’s forehead. She ignored him, already  _ far _ too interested in trying to get to a set of blocks that looked entirely too much like a standing tower in need of knocking over. He gathered his things and stepped to the door.

“You have all the information from her pediatrician?” he checked, just one more time.

Yennefer waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, Geralt, I have it all. And if you don’t leave soon I will have to throttle you for apparently thinking I am so unprepared as to not know her  _ medicine dose _ or the number to the pediatrician we  _ both _ picked out. Get out of my house, I do not want to see you darken my doorway any longer. Go back and get a good night’s sleep and fucking  _ relax _ . She has a glorified cold and rash, not the  _ plague _ .”

Geralt nodded, and managed to tear himself away. Lest he have something thrown at him.

By the time Geralt returned home, Jaskier had returned from work. 

“No, no, come on,” Jaskier said the moment he saw Geralt. “You are  _ not _ spending the entire night moping. You’re ridiculous. Ciri is  _ fine _ , Yennefer has got her, and if anything happened you know Yennefer would call you. Ciri is going to fall ill sometimes, and you are  _ not allowed _ to act like this every time.”

Geralt sighed, but he allowed himself to be pushed to the couch. “I don’t like this split parenting thing, Jask,” Geralt said, and he resolutely would  _ not _ admit that it was a whine. The way Jaskier’s mouth quirked up implied that whine was exactly the word Jaskier would use, though. “I just want to know she’s okay.”

“You  _ do _ know she’s okay, though. Ciri was on the up and up before you took her over, you told me that, and she’s a strong baby. By the time she comes back, she’ll be back to her regular, perky, sleeping through the night self. I’ve indulged your mopey-ness for  _ far _ too long, though. We are going to order dinner, you are going to relax, and then we are going to pick up where we left off before she got sick. Agreed?”

Jaskier grinned, and the wink he sent Geralt’s way went  _ straight _ to Geralt’s cock. Now,  _ that _ plan he could get behind. This time, nothing would interrupt them. Geralt let out a breath, dramatic enough that even Jaskier looked slightly impressed, and held up his hands in surrender, as if Jaskier’s plan was a great hardship.

It wasn’t. Though Geralt didn’t relax until the food came, it was easy with Jaskier there, chattering about how his music lessons went, for him to slowly allow himself to be distracted. Ciri would be fine, she was with Yennefer, and Geralt had an entire night with Jaskier with no distractions. 

By the time they had finished eating, Geralt couldn’t keep his hands off Jaskier. His hand had found Jaskier’s knee early on in their meal, which Jaskier teasingly batted away, but Jaskier’s protests lost even that amount of fight as Geralt slowly, almost imperceptibly, allowed his hand to trail higher and higher. As Jaskier finally put down his fork--he liked to  _ savor  _ the meal, as he kept reminding Geralt--Geralt’s fingers were rubbing little circles into the inside of Jaskier’s thigh, just shy of the growing bulge in his pants.

“Menace,” Jaskier huffed, but there was very little exasperation in his voice. 

Geralt took this as all the permission he needed to capture Jaskier’s lips in a kiss. This round, they were wasting no time. They both stood up, pressing into the kiss, and Geralt led Jaskier backwards, his hands on his hips, to the stairs. Getting up the stairs was a task, one that had them breaking away every so often to huff breathless laughs, only to swallow them up again between lips and tongues.

Geralt felt his mind go a bit hazy as they made it into the bedroom, and he was half-afraid that it wasn’t entirely from arousal. He bit off a yawn as they pulled away and Jaskier clambered onto the bed. Geralt watched Jaskier with a grin, then pulled off his own shirt in one fluid movement, dropping it behind him and enjoying the heat in Jaskier’s expression as he looked Geralt up and down. He climbed onto the bed, pulling Jaskier up to his knees to capture him in a hungry kiss.

Jaskier pressed their bodies together in a hard line, his hands palming greedily at Geralt’s ass through his pants. Jaskier bent, pressing kisses along Geralt’s neck, down to his chest, taking his time to explore the dips and curves of Geralt’s muscles. Jaskier hummed appreciatively as he got to Geralt’s abs, and Geralt couldn’t help his laugh as he carded his fingers through Jaskier’s hair.

Geralt hadn't even realized he was biting back another yawn until Jaskier was laughing against his hip.

“I’m not boring you, am I?” Jaskier asked, amused, as he peered up at Geralt.

“Obviously not,” Geralt answered, pressing his hips forward until his hard length was nudging against Jaskier’s shoulder. Jaskier’s gaze darkened, but still he pulled away.

“Really? So I haven’t caught you yawning  _ at least _ five times, just since we made it past the stairs?” Geralt ran his hand through his hair, sheepish. Jaskier sat back on his legs, and now he looked  _ pityingly _ at Geralt. That wasn’t the kind of look he wanted on Jaskier’s face when he was  _ so close _ to Geralt’s cock. “You haven’t slept really at all the last two days, have you?”

“I’m fine,” Geralt insisted. “If we could just--”

“I’d much prefer if my partner was actually  _ awake _ to enjoy my cock sucking skills. I’ve only been waiting  _ ages _ to get here, Geralt.” He rubbed his palm against Geralt’s cock, the  _ tease _ , and Geralt groaned. “You need to sleep.”

“Jaskier, I’m fine. I’m not going to pass out on you. I’ve slept fine the past few days.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So if I went downstairs to grab something and left you here for a moment, I  _ wouldn’t _ find you dead to the world?”

Geralt grit his teeth. He knew what Jaskier was trying to do, and Geralt wasn’t here for it. But any insistence that Jaskier stay would be suspect as well. He had been backed into a wall, and Jaskier knew it. Geralt tried to play dirty, he cupped Jaskier’s face, running a thumb over Jaskier’s bottom lip, and while Jaskier’s tongue poked out almost automatically, still his face remained resolute.

“Jask, come on. You don’t need to do anything  _ right now _ ,” Geralt finally tried. But Jaskier smirked and rolled back, freeing his legs before he swung them over the side of the bed.

“Oh yes, I do,” Jaskier insisted. He cupped Geralt’s face, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “If you’re still lucid when I return, then we can continue. I’ll be back soon.”

Geralt huffed, throwing himself face-down on the bed, as Jaskier left the room. He heard the sink turn on and groaned--Jaskier was cleaning up from dinner. That meant he would probably be gone for fifteen minutes at minimum. But he wanted to make a  _ point _ , which meant Geralt could expect to wait for half an hour, if not  _ more _ . Damn him.

Geralt tried. It was a valiant effort to keep sleep from overtaking him. However, by the time Jaskier had returned, Geralt was, in fact, dead to the world, still dressed in his jeans and facedown on the bed. He didn’t even stir as Jaskier dressed for bed and cuddled up next to him.

\--

Jaskier’s fashion had always been a bit…  _ out there _ to Geralt. He figured he wasn’t exactly the type of person that could make any statements about anyone’s clothes, given that he was most often wearing dark-wash jeans, some sort of dark shirt, and a zip-up hoodie or coat. Contrary to prior belief, he actually  _ did _ have a very full wardrobe and wore a different outfit every day, they just happened to look fairly similar. He liked what he liked, and that was that.

It was interesting that he had then managed to date two different people that were as involved in fashion as they were. Yennefer always looked incredible; Geralt would describe her fashion as “I need you to know that you should be afraid of me” and she had managed to create her own fashion empire through the magazine she was creative director for. Jaskier’s fashion he could only describe as  _ loud _ . Loud colors, loud prints, loud silhouettes.

He was especially loud on nights he was performing.

Jaskier never shied away from color on any other day. Even when they were at home for the day, he would pair a brightly patterned pair of sweats with a brightly colored shirt. The patterns he mixed never matched, but somehow they  _ worked _ . Geralt tried not to pay too much attention to it, he really didn’t care, and even with as little as he paid attention, he had to admit that Jaskier  _ always _ looked good. On nights when he was performing, though, he kicked it up a notch. He had explained it to Geralt once as needing to sell not only the music, but also the character of  _ Jaskier _ , and Geralt understood that well enough. Jaskier wanted to be someone that people wanted to listen to, obviously, but also someone that people wanted to  _ look _ at. Most nights, Geralt was just proud with the knowledge that this beautiful man was his, and didn’t mind that others were appreciating Jaskier as well.

Tonight, though, Geralt was having a problem.

He hadn’t seen Jaskier get dressed. Maybe if he had, he would have requested an outfit change. Geralt’s first introduction to the look of the night was Jaskier stepping on stage, and Triss teased him mercilessly for how his mouth had fallen open. 

Everything he had on, from the shiny black shoes, the tight black pants, the billowy, black and white shirt, unbuttoned to just below his nipple line--it was  _ sinful _ . How he had managed to look so  _ loud _ when all he was wearing was black and white was beyond Geralt, but Geralt wanted to make those pants even tighter, wanted to run his fingers over that chest hair, wanted to leave marks that peeked out from beneath that collar.

Jaskier had barely completed his set before Geralt was tugging him into the hallway that led to the bathrooms. It wasn’t completely deserted here, every so often people would come through on their way to relieve themselves, and it was definitely dirty, but it was just private enough for Geralt to press Jaskier against the wall and claim his neck. It was just public enough that Jaskier was panting sinfully, painfully hard in those tight, tight pants as Geralt ground their hips together.

“ _ God _ , Geralt, what has gotten into you tonight?” Jaskier’s fingers held Geralt’s sides so tightly that Geralt was pretty sure he was going to have bruises on his waist, despite his sweater.

Geralt pulled back, admiring his handiwork on Jaskier’s neck and feeling a little spike of pleasure shoot through him. He hadn’t expected to enjoy marking Jaskier up so much, Yen had never been a fan of it, but Jaskier always seemed to  _ glow _ with the attention. He could lean on the right side of possessiveness in favor of Jaskier looking thoroughly debauched every time he did it.

“You look--so fucking--” Geralt said, moving lower, to his collarbone just where his shirt hung. He was just about to bite at the flesh there when Jaskier’s hand tangled in Geralt’s hair and tugged him with enough urgency that Geralt pulled back. He gave Jaskier--whose eyes were blown wide with lust and his mouth open as he panted--a curious look.

“I need you to take me home  _ right now _ ,” Jaskier finally managed to say, and Geralt’s face broke into an open-mouthed grin. “Or I am going to do a great many  _ very _ inappropriate things and as pleasurable they would be, I would rather  _ not _ have that sort of trampy reputation where I play.”

Geralt pulled back and grabbed Jaskier’s hand, motioning for him to lead the way. It was a reasonable enough request--it probably wouldn’t keep Jaskier in the owner’s good graces if he was caught having sex in the toilets. Besides, Geralt wanted Jaskier to  _ sing _ for him, rather than try to keep himself quiet.

Jaskier took a moment to breathe, then nodded, tugging Geralt behind him as he headed for the door.

Just as Jaskier was reaching forward for the doorknob, it swung open, catching his face with a loud  _ crack _ . Geralt gaped as Jaskier staggered back, the person on the other side blinking confusedly, before their expression quickly turned into panic.

“What the  _ fuck _ ,” Jaskier gasped. His hands flew to his nose, but it couldn’t quite staunch the flow of blood that was now pouring down his face and between his fingers. “Who throws open a door like that at a bar!”

The woman’s panicked apologies rang out, but Geralt had no time for her, and she was blocking the way. He shoved ahead of Jaskier, grabbing his arm and dragging him out into the flow of people, who stumbled out of the way when they saw Geralt on his warpath and the profusely bleeding Jaskier behind him. Geralt stopped at their table only briefly, motioning for Triss to follow them, and as they made their way through the people she fussed over Jaskier’s nose as best she could while they moved.

Once outside, Geralt pulled them under a streetlight and tugged Jaskier’s hands away. It looked horrible--blood everywhere, and Geralt suddenly couldn’t remember if that was where Jaskier’s nose had been before. His eyes were watering with unbidden tears and as he swore repeatedly, the blood entered his mouth, making his face scrunch up in disgust, only to then cause him to wince in pain.

“I’m taking him to Urgent Care,” Geralt said to Triss. “Would you get his things?” He fished his keys out of his pocket. “There’s a spare key inside the plant, under a false rock. The gray one.” Triss nodded, scurrying back inside, and Geralt dragged Jaskier off to the car.

They spent most of the next few hours in Urgent Care. Jaskier’s nose, luckily, wasn’t broken, but he did get a black eye. Jaskier joked that it made him look tough, as long as he left out the part where he lost a fight between him and a door. He had no jokes left when Ciri came home and cried upon seeing his face.

\--

“See, the black eye has made me totally irresistible,” Jaskier joked, his hands tangled in Geralt’s hair as they kissed.

Geralt scoffed. He thumbed the buttons of Jaskier’s button up as Jaskier’s legs wrapped around his torso, forcing Jaskier to scoot to the very end of the countertop to get the pressure he wanted against his rapidly hardening cock.

“So you like it again?” Geralt teased, pushing the shirt off Jaskier’s shoulders.

“Like is a strong word. But it’s growing on me again, now that Ciri doesn’t cry every time she sees me.” His voice sounded almost wounded, and Geralt huffed a laugh against Jaskier’s lips. 

It had been a tense few days, but Ciri had finally let Jaskier do the bedtime routine tonight, and Jaskier had been boasting about it ever since. Now, apparently, he was back to boasting about how  _ dangerous _ the black eye made him look, so dangerously sexy that Geralt just had to press him against the counter and claim his mouth while they were cleaning the dishes. Really, the black eye did nothing but stir a feeling of guilt in Geralt’s gut, which was ridiculous, considering it hadn’t been Geralt’s fault. But at this point, Geralt was pretty sure Jaskier could be wearing a trash bag and Geralt would still want to rip it off him. He was getting  _ desperate _ in his desire for Jaskier, and  _ tonight _ things really needed to go his way, or Geralt was going to lose his mind and his recurring case of blue balls was going to render him a eunuch. 

Jaskier seemed to feel the same way, as his hands desperately tugged Geralt’s shirt up and over his head, disappearing  _ somewhere _ , though neither one of them particularly cared where. Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier, slotting their bodies tightly together as he pulled Jaskier off the counter and placed his feet back on the ground. He barely waited until Jaskier had his footing again before he was kneeling down, taking Jaskier’s pants and underwear down with him to free his cock. Jaskier gasped at the sudden freedom and Geralt dragged a breathy moan from his lips as he took Jaskier’s cock in hand.

Geralt’s fingers looped loosely around Jaskier’s cock, jerking him off with smooth, languid motions to get him hard as his teeth nipped at Jaskier’s inner thighs. Geralt looked up to see Jaskier watching him with rapt attention, his eyes wide and his mouth slack as he held himself up against the counter. Geralt smirked as his lips ghosted over Jaskier’s cock, and when he opened his mouth to lick along the vein on the underside, Jaskier moaned bodily, his head falling back.

“God, Geralt, I’m going to come before you even  _ do anything _ if you keep looking that fucking hot,” Jaskier whined, lifting his head again with what appeared to be a considerable amount of effort.

Geralt hummed in reply, then took Jaskier’s head in his mouth, sucking experimentally. Jaskier moaned again, his hands flew to Geralt’s hair, and his eyes looked desperate.

And then the doorbell rang. The whimper that came out of Jaskier’s mouth was just as desperate as his moaning, but this time it was tinged with distress. They both froze, hoping that it was just a fluke, but not even a moment later it rang again. And then a third time, before the second ring had even finished. Whoever was at the door was very insistent.

Geralt pulled away as Jaskier said “ _ Fuck _ ” which a great deal of feeling. He paused a moment, considering, then stood up just as the bell was ringing a fourth time. This had better be a fucking emergency.

Geralt all but dragged his feet to the door as Jaskier quickly redressed himself and Geralt peered out the peephole. There was a familiar mess of dark brown curls, and from the way she was swaying and shifting from foot to foot, it was evident that Triss had been drinking. Geralt opened the door and tried not to call out in surprise as Triss lunged at him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his bare chest.

“Triss, what’s--” Geralt started, pulling her inside and kicking the door closed. She started to  _ cry _ though, and Geralt had absolutely no idea what to do with  _ that. _

Jaskier appeared at the end of the hallway and Geralt looked at him helplessly as Triss sobbed into his skin. Carefully, Jaskier joined them, placing a hand on Triss’s back and easing her off Geralt. He instead led her further inside to the couch. They sat close together, Triss now pressing her face into Jaskier’s shoulder, and Geralt sat on her other side, still feeling wrong-footed.

Eventually the story came out--terrible blind date, he was just so  _ rude _ to her even though he had been perfectly lovely when they had texted before the date. Geralt had every inclination to go track the bastard down and make him pay for every snide comment he made about Triss, but he was pretty sure she wouldn’t care for that sort of behavior. Besides, she never had to see him again.

“Why can’t it  _ ever _ work out?” Triss asked miserably. “Why do I even bother?”

“It will, dear,” Jaskier insisted, smoothing her hair. “He was absolute garbage, but it  _ will _ work out. Have to kiss a few frogs, and all that, you know? Someone is going to meet you and realize that you’re everything that’s been missing from their life, just you see.”

It didn’t fix things, they all knew that, but at least Jaskier’s words had calmed Triss down enough that the flow of tears slowed. She rubbed at her eyes and sat up.

“I’m sorry I just showed up here. I didn’t want to go home alone yet. I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

Jaskier and Geralt exchanged a quick grimace. Geralt reached out a hand and rubbed Triss’s back.

“Of course not,” he answered, when she turned her attention to him and offered him a weak smile.

\--

Geralt didn’t want to get his hopes up, but Jaskier was already trembling under his touch. 

Jaskier was perched above him, completely naked, which was already so much farther than they had gotten every other time in the past nearly  _ three weeks _ of trying to have sex. His legs bracketed Geralt’s equally bare ones, and Jaskier was pressing a small container of lube into Geralt’s hands as he panted his way through kiss after kiss. Part of Geralt wanted to make this image of a desperate, silently begging Jaskier last forever. Part of Geralt wanted to press on before anything could interrupt them  _ again. _

Cirilla was at Yennefer’s. Geralt and Jaskier had gotten decent sleep all week. Jaskier had sent out a threatening text to anyone who had even a  _ chance _ of coming over telling them that they had better be literally dying if they were to bug them tonight. Their phones were on Do Not Disturb. Nothing was going to interrupt them tonight, and their hunger for each other was palpable.

Geralt pressed a slicked up finger against Jaskier’s hole and he pulled away from Geralt’s lips just enough to groan. Geralt could feel the vibration in his lips and he pressed inside, past the ring of muscles, and licked his way into Jaskier’s open mouth.

Now that he had Jaskier here, all he wanted to do was draw it out. Already, Jaskier was making such pretty noises for him as Geralt worked his finger inside, building up to adding more. Jaskier babbled aimlessly against Geralt’s shoulder as Geralt stretched him, and if he had any complaints about how slowly Geralt was working, he didn’t voice them. 

Geralt felt hot all over as he held Jaskier in his arms. His chest, pressed tight to Jaskiers, felt positively on fire and Geralt was sure he could feel Jaskier’s heart pounding away. Or maybe that was his own. It was hard to tell when they were both so tightly wound up. 

“Geralt, darling,  _ please _ ,” Jaskier moaned, and Geralt grinned, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s cheekbone. “Please, darling, more. I need more. Need-need  _ you _ .”

“You have me,” Geralt answered, and Jaskier’s replying whine was  _ delicious _ . Geralt kept his fingers moving, though. Jaskier wasn’t quite ready for Geralt’s cock, and Geralt wasn’t quite done hearing Jaskier beg.

Finally, Geralt found the spot he was looking for. Jaskier shot up as high as his arms would lift him, shouting Geralt’s name as Geralt gave him a satisfied grin. Jaskier looked at him imploringly and took the condom from where they had stashed it just beside Geralt’s head. He opened the package with his teeth--partially because his other hand was preoccupied with holding him upright and partially for the drama of it--and rolled it onto Geralt’s cock. Geralt bit back his own moan at the contact, but even sinking his teeth into his lower lip did little to muffle the sound.

“Darling, I’m so ready. Please, please fuck me. I  _ need _ your cock,” Jaskier begged, trying to sway Geralt both with his words, and by guiding Geralt’s cock against Geralt’s fingers, which were still inside Jaskier.

Geralt gasped at the pressure and relented, removing his fingers from Jaskier’s body. Though Jaskier’s huff sounded disappointed, his eyes looked  _ wanting _ , just shy of predatory, and Geralt found himself thrusting up helplessly.

Jaskier raised himself up on his thighs, shifting his knees until he hovered just above Geralt’s groin. He grasped the base of Geralt’s cock and lined him up before slowly sinking down. Geralt’s hands held Jaskier’s hips so tight he was sure Jaskier would feel tender long after they were done, but Jaskier’s free hand covered one of Geralt’s and Geralt knew he didn’t mind. Jaskier’s hips moved fluidly, slowly rocking him down Geralt’s length until he was completely seated. They both stayed there a moment, panting open-mouthed at each other until Geralt had to lift himself up to catch Jaskier in a kiss.

The change in angle made Jaskier groan into Geralt’s mouth, and he kissed back enthusiastically, if a bit sloppily. After the second time their teeth clicked together, they both pulled away and pressed their foreheads together.

“Fuck, Jask, you feel so good,” Geralt whispered.

“Your  _ cock _ , Geralt. How the fuck can your cock be better in reality than in my fantasies?” Jaskier whispered back.

Geralt huffed a laugh. He laid back and stared up at Jaskier, who grinned back down at him for a moment before he slowly started to rock his hips forward and back. They both gasped into the movement and before long, Jaskier had developed a steady rhythm. Geralt let him set the pace before he carefully, thoughtfully, thrusted up into Jaskier’s body, and the resounding moan had Geralt confidently doing it again, and again, and again.

Soon, Jaskier was draped over Geralt’s body, his hips rocking furiously as Geralt thrusted up to meet him. Jaskier was still speaking, but Geralt couldn’t pick out any complete, articulate thoughts. They sounded more like moans than words, said far back in his throat, and far deeper than Jaskier’s voice usually was. Geralt’s fingers dug into Jaskier’s back, and with their abdomens pressed together, Geralt could feel Jaskier’s leaking cock trapped between them. 

Jaskier slid his knees back, likely looking for more support, but the new angle had him biting into Geralt’s skin hard enough to  _ hurt _ . A moan tore through Geralt as he came inside Jaskier and he had just barely enough presence of mind through the orgasm to slip a hand between them and capture Jaskier’s cock against his own abdomen. He pressed down as Jaskier continued to ride him, though the added pressure on Jaskier’s cock had his movements growing sloppy.

Jaskier thrust against Geralt’s hand and abs once, twice more until he released, creating a mess of Geralt’s chest and his own when he collapsed fully on top of Geralt. Geralt massaged the swell of Jaskier’s ass through the aftershocks and finally stilled his hips when Jaskier let out an almost pained whine from overstimulation.

Geralt removed his arm from between them and instead slung it low on Jaskier’s back. For a long moment the only sound in the room was their breathing as they came down from their highs. It was Jaskier that spoke first, because of course it was, as he trailed a finger over the bite on Geralt’s shoulder and winced.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bite you,” he said, and Geralt shrugged.

“I should have known you’d be a biter. Was that revenge for marking you up?” Geralt teased.

Jaskier pushed himself up on his forearms to look at Geralt. “Revenge implies that I didn’t want you to mark me in the first place. Please, feel free to continue doing that.” 

Geralt hummed and slowly pulled his softening cock out of Jaskier, and Jaskier rolled off him onto the bed beside Geralt. They both moved at once--Jaskier to curl up against Geralt, and Geralt to wrap his arm around Jaskier and tug him close. Jaskier rested his head on Geralt’s shoulder. The way his fingers trailed through Geralt’s chest hair made Geralt feel warm.

“Fucking finally,” Geralt mumbled. Before he let himself fall further into satisfied exhaustion, he pulled off the condom, tied the end in a knot, and dropped it on the ground. Jaskier’s grimace was dramatic enough that Geralt could feel it against his chest, but neither of them moved to do a proper cleanup job. They’d have to shower in the morning.

“Is it bad that I’m almost… relieved?” Jaskier asked, laughing. “I was so afraid that after all this build up that it’d be disappointing, somehow. Like I’d last ten seconds or it’d almost take  _ too _ long and neither one of us would be satisfied for whatever reason. But,  _ God _ , that was good. And now the pressure’s off. We officially have good sex!” He paused a moment, then lifted his head to narrow his eyes at Geralt consideringly. “It was good for you, too, right?”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Obviously it was good, Jask.” Jaskier continued staring at him, like he was trying to figure something out. “Do you want me to write you a song about it? Tell you you’re a sex god?”

Jaskier huffed, but he returned his head to Geralt’s shoulder. “You have not a poetic bone in your body, so I’d love to see that atrocity. And, yes, I’d love to be called a sex god. But it seems a little heavy handed  _ now _ . Maybe next time.”

Geralt hummed, allowing his eyes to slip closed. Jaskier’s fingers continued to trail along his chest, though they were getting slower, and every so often his hand would pause. Jaskier had to be close to sleep.

“You’ve fantasized about me?” Geralt asked, breaking the silence just as he was sure Jaskier was about to doze off. 

Jaskier’s laugh was breathy and embarrassed, and he swatted Geralt’s chest halfheartedly.

“Leave me alone and go to sleep, you  _ demon _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> as always, i'd love to chill with you on tumblr: lesdemonium.tumblr.com
> 
> i have a few more ideas for little fic ideas to add to this verse, but i would like to accept prompts, too! i can't guarantee i'll write them all, but if you wanted to throw me ideas for this verse, i'd definitely try! thanks so much for reading, y'all.


End file.
